


Please Don't

by agent_izhyper



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Humor, M/M, Misunderstandings, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-18
Updated: 2014-06-18
Packaged: 2018-02-05 04:53:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1806001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agent_izhyper/pseuds/agent_izhyper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>improud-ofus asked: "This isn't exactly what I had in mind", Sterek. GO :D</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Scott reaches for his drink and sips it stubbornly. “Whatever. I’m not listening in on what they’re saying.”</p><p>"It’s for the greater good, Scott," Stiles tries. "She could be some sort of earth-siren, seducing him with her womanly wiles so she can use him and his immense upper body strength to wreak havoc on us all."</p><p>Scott blinks a few times, mouthing ‘<em>womanly wiles</em>' and '<em>immense upper body strength</em>' incredulously while his crazy best friend goes on.</p><p>"And we wouldn’t even <em>know</em> until something shows up mauled to death, all because you wouldn’t use your super senses to confirm what I already know…deep, deep, inside. Because. Evil vibes. I haven’t been wrong about them yet.”</p><p>(In which Stiles is jealous and also a fail; Scott despairs; and Derek is so confused, it's not just funny, it's hilarious.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Please Don't

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Remy (iamremy)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamremy/gifts).



> SO. Remy prompted me that on tumblr but I liked it enough to put it up here too. xD Also because I wanna gift it specially to her as a congrats on getting through a full year of uni alive and debatably in one piece :P YOU GIVE US ALL HOPE, DUDE. (Yo, if you can do it with your immense procrastinating, then so can we xD). Nah, in all seriousness though, go you! :3

 

Contrary to popular belief, Stiles’ plans do actually suck on a maybe-less-than-regular-but-still-frequent basis. It’s just that the others’ plans tend to suck  _more_  so his ones stand out (unless Lydia offers a plan. In which case, everyone can shut up and go home, because no one can compete with hers).

"I don’t think this is a good idea," Scott says dubiously.

"C’mon, Scott, work with me here. It’s a brilliant idea, okay, but it’s not gonna work if you look like  _that_.” Stiles waves a hand in the general direction of his best friend’s face.

"What’s wrong with what I look like?" Scott demands.

Stiles ignores him and flaps a hand at him to shut up, sitting up straight and staring not discretely at all at the entrance.

Scott sighs and picks up the menu in front of him for the tenth time. They’ve been at this goddamn restaurant for a good fifteen minutes (fifteen whole minutes which he could have been spending at home beating Isaac’s kill streak in Call of Duty!) and they’ve had a repeat of this conversation approximately twenty times. Scott has almost twenty years of experience in dealing with his best friend and his antics, but even his patience is starting to wear thin in the face of this…stubborn, stupid, denial thing he’s got going on.

"Scott!" Stiles hisses at him from across the booth. He’s staring out the window to his left with wide eyes. "Scott, that’s his car!"

Scott sighs and bites back an “I know, I can hear it” because Stiles looks too strung-up to take any kind of response nicely. He does, however, deeply regret not forcing Stiles to take his seat so that Scott could be the one facing the entrance instead - especially since Stiles is now staring at it with enough intensity that anyone coming through will surely feel it. _  
_

Scott shifts in his seat and signals to a passing waitress to take their orders. He might as well eat something before the shit inevitably hits the fan. They get their drinks and also a bowl of fries almost immediately - and Scott dives for them right when Stiles flails minutely in his seat and simultaneously kicks him in the shin under the table. “Dude!”

"Stiles, what the  _hell_!”

But Stiles doesn’t even glance at him, too busy narrowing his eyes in a thoughtful (and slightly murderous) manner over Scott’s shoulder. The werewolf sighs in resignation when his friend leans over the table to whisper his observations - clearly, this is not going to go down smoothly at all.

"Dude, she looks totally evil."

"…Stiles."

"No, seriously, evil vibes here, man!" Stiles scowls.

Scott cocks an eyebrow at him before casually turning in his seat to glance behind him at their ‘target’. His eyes scan the full tables until… there. A safe distance away sits Derek, across a table from a cute brunette who…does not, in any way, shape, or form, look “totally evil”. _  
_

He turns back to Stiles, who’s staring at him expectantly. 

"She looks  _fine_ , Stiles.”

Stiles’ mouth drops in outrage. “She does  _not_!” He picks up some fries to munch on angrily, waving one in the couple’s direction. “Look at that! She’s totally domineering that conversation! Shut up,” he adds in response to Scott’s bit-back laugh. He narrows his eyes some more at them. Scott’s werewolf-hearing picks up Derek’s little chuff of amusement, and he can practically see Stiles gearing up for a verbal barrage on the “evil vibes” she supposedly gives off.

He’d say that he can’t believe Stiles knew when and where Derek was meeting this lady, but to be honest, he really really can.

"What’s she saying?" Stiles demands. _  
_

Scott stares at him. “Dude! I’m not eavesdropping on Derek’s date!”

Stiles looks at him with all the indignant betrayal he can muster. “Well then, why’d you come along?”

"Because you dragged me out of my house yelling about doing us all a favour and preventing mass-murder and heartbreak from happening!"

"I did not-  _there was nothing about heartbreak, you liar_.” Stiles tosses a fry at his face.

Scott reaches for his drink and sips it stubbornly. “Whatever. I’m not listening in on what they’re saying.”

"It’s for the greater good, Scott," Stiles tries. "She could be some sort of earth-siren, seducing him with her womanly wiles so she can use him and his immense upper body strength to wreak havoc on us all."

Scott blinks a few times, mouthing ‘ _womanly wiles_ ' and ' _immense upper body strength_ ' incredulously while his crazy best friend goes on.

"And we wouldn’t even  _know_  until something shows up mauled to death, all because you wouldn’t use your super senses to confirm what I already know…deep, deep, inside. Because. Evil vibes. I haven’t been wrong about them yet.”

Scott continues eating the fries. A staring contest goes on between them for a good minute or so, until Stiles scowls at him and braces his hands on the table, ready to get up. “Fine. I’ll do it myself. Activate: stealth mode. He won’t even see me go past,” he declares, glaring in betrayal at Scott.

"What- No, Stiles, wait-" Scott half-rises from his seat, a hand reaching out to pull Stiles back, but before he can do anything, he smells a familiar scent approaching from behind him. His mouth drops in a silent ‘ _oh shit_ ' and Stiles looks up, expression falling into one of mild panic, before he drops back down into his seat and reforming his features into those of pleasant surprise.

Scott winces, slides casually to the far side of his bench, and pulls his drink towards him silently as Derek comes to a stop at their table.

"What are you doing here," he demands, arms crossing in front of his chest as he narrows his eyes at Scott then at Stiles. The latter blinks up at him innocently, fooling absolutely no-one.

"Eating!" He waves a hand at the meager fries on the table, then frowns down at them. "Well, sort of eating? We’re still waiting for the actual food. Man, the service here sure isn’t that great, is it, Scott? I mean, this place isn’t exactly a quality date establishment, right? I wouldn’t come here on a first date, that’s for sure-"

Scott watches in both amusement and curiosity as Derek looks more puzzled by the word, until he cuts off Stiles’ distraction. “ _Stiles_.”

"What? I answered your question!" Stiles says indignantly. He then adds, with all seriousness, "Don’t you agree, though?"

"I- agree to what?"

"Y’know, this place, kinda crappy for a first date," Stiles repeats. 

Scott shrinks back in his seat as a passing waitress shoots them the fiercest of death glares for that comment.

Derek’s eyebrows furrow together and he drops his hands to lean forward on the table, a familiar expression on his face. Scott calls it his ‘Stiles is a huge pain in my ass, someone make him stop’ face. “What are you  _talking_  about.” He shakes his head and glances over his shoulder (Scott copies him; the table is empty, weirdly enough) before turning back to them. “I don’t care, just. You shouldn’t have come.”

Stiles’ eyebrows rise. “And why not? We were just enjoying the food-“

"-I thought you were badmouthing this place not a minute ago," Scott mutters. He’s ignored. It seems to be a theme tonight.

"-and it’s not our fault you decided to come here too. What can I say, it’s a small town!"

"…It really isn’t that small…"

Derek glares at Stiles, who stares back coolly while chewing aggressively on a straw, because if he doesn’t let out that pent-up tension somehow he might explode. (Derek’s eyes keep slipping to his mouth. Scott resists the urge to groan and drop his face onto the table.) “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re trying to do,” he says pointedly, eyes flicking over to Scott as well. Stiles, for his part, doesn’t choke on the straw, though it looks like it’s a near thing.

Scott’s eyes widen and he straightens, holding up his hands. “In my defence, this was all his idea!” He winces as his shins take another hit. “When I said maybe we should vet your future girlfriends, this isn’t exactly what I had in mind, okay? He’s the one who went all stalker on your ass, I just got dragged along!”

"You fucker, oh my god," Stiles hisses at him, flailing a hand as his drink almost falls off the table. Scott grins back unrepentantly and pulls the bowl of fries towards him before looking up at Derek.

…Who, strangely, looks more confused than he’s even seen him before. Maybe.

It takes a few moments (in which Stiles is looking around like he thinks a magical exit will appear and allow him to vanish away) but eventually, Derek manages to speak. “…I’m not on a  _date_.”

Scott blinks up at him. Stiles, who’s still refusing to look him in the eye, gapes for a second, before reeling in his disbelief and trying to seem nonchalant. “Sure, yeah, no, of course not. Great. That’s good. I mean. She was totally evil, didn’t I tell you, Scott? You really cut it a bit close there, dude, who knows what she would’ve-“

"What are you on about," Derek interjects, staring at him. (Scott secretly wishes he had the foresight to video this. The expression on Derek’s face is priceless.) "She isn’t  _evil_ , Stiles, she’s a werewolf.”

The “oh” that comes out of Stiles’ mouth sounds oddly strangled. Scott takes pity on his best friend and leans back in.

"Wait, a werewolf? Where’d you meet her? When did she come to Beacon Hills?" he presses, frowning.

Derek looks faintly annoyed. “I didn’t  _meet her_  anywhere and this isn’t a date.”

Stiles looks up, hopeful.

"She contacted me. She’s… Her pack knew my family, before. We had ties to them. She’s passing through, going to visit relatives a couple towns over," Derek explains grudgingly.

"Oh. Okay," Scott says after a moment. He sits back again, mulling over the information before cocking an inquisitive eyebrow at him. "Then why’d you tell us to go?"

"Because," he says with an eye-roll. "If she senses another werewolf here, members of the pack, she’ll think I brought back-up along and take it as a sign of mistrust."

“ _Ohhh_ , that makes sense.” Scott nods, satisfied with the explanations. Derek must have thought Scott had followed the scent of a new werewolf in town. He chances a glance over at Stiles who’s staring openly at Derek now, but quickly turns to examining his drink in apparent interest when the latter looks back at him.

"Well, uh, in that case," Stiles says a little awkwardly, tensing to leave. "We should…go?"

"Thought you were just enjoying the food," Derek smirks. That makes Stiles look at him, narrowing his eyes slightly and pointing a finger at him.

"Don’t even." He pauses, contemplates a bit, then adds, "I stand by everything I said, though."

Scott watches in fascination as he somehow disappears completely from both their minds. Derek’s eyebrows lift slightly and a corner of his mouth ticks upwards in intrigue. “Oh, yeah?”

Stiles nods surely with an almost challenging stare. “Yep.”

"And what would your  _quality date establishment_  be?” Derek shoots back.

(“I can’t believe this is happening,” Scott whispers to himself.)

Stiles smirks, leans forward on the table, and says cockily, “Why don’t I show you.”

(“ _How the fuck is this happening_?” Where is his best friend and who is this smooth imposter? Also, the sexual tension between the mutually intense staring going on here is getting ridiculous.)

…Of course, that would be the moment when Stiles’ hand slips and his drink tips over and splashes all over the both of them. Stiles flails back with a yelp; Derek shoves off the table and curses.

Scott laughs, and laughs, and laughs some more as Stiles’ clumsy efforts to set the can upright make it fall to the ground and splash more drink on them.

He’s still laughing when that same angry waitress who’d shot daggers at them with her eyes kicks them out.

"So." Stiles shoves his hands in his pockets and turns to look at Derek with a sheepish grin. "About that…"

Derek stares at him, then huffs a short laugh. “Alright.”

Stiles startles. “What? You mean-“

His mouth quirks upwards in an almost-smile. “Why not?”

"Ha,  _yes_! Tomorrow night, 6, I’ll-“

Scott butts in, because he’s still standing next to them and he’s just really amused by everything. “You can’t pick him up, your car’s down.”

Stiles wilts slightly at the reminder. “Oh yeah… Okay, fine, you pick me up then. But then I’m driving,” he adds. Derek looks pleased, as far as Scott can read his face, as he nods. Stiles beams like an idiot. “Derek Hale, prepare to have the best date night of you  _life_.”

…In the end, Scott has to physically drag Stiles off to his car because he seems to have stopped functioning beyond grinning like a loon at the receding taillights of Derek’s car.

Once they’re on the road, Stiles turns to him smugly and says, “Didn’t I tell you this was a great idea?”

Scott groans. “You’re gonna be insufferable now, aren’t you.”

"Damn straight I am."

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are beautiful and so are you ;)
> 
> you can find me on tumblr [here](http://deathby-stiles.tumblr.com) aaaand Remy [over here](http://improud-ofus.tumblr.com) :)


End file.
